CLICKING

Clicking

The party sounded like so much fun. Tyler played with his band. I like Tyler, but he doesn't know that; I doubt he even knows I exist. The party was in a big house. A big house with a pool. And all the food was gluten free; that's the big thing now. Everybody's eating gluten free. Even me. Not that anyone cares what I eat.
Just like no one invites me to parties.
I only heard about this one because Caitlin, who sits next to me, was whispering to Melanie, who sits on the other side of me and then Jenny, who's in the next row down, joined in. I think they forgot I was even there.
At least at first. Then Jenny glanced at me – I think she thought I wouldn't see – and pointed to her phone and everybody stopped talking. Out loud at least. Instead, they all started texting. All I heard then was the clicking and sometimes the giggles when someone wrote something funny.
I sat between the three of them as they texted each other about the party and laughed and sometimes looked up at each other to smile, smile about something they could all see on their screens.
They weren't ignoring me, exactly, it's more like they were in a world where I didn't exist and in their world they were remembering the party, remembering it all together, while in mine I was just listening to the clicking, the clicking and the laughter, and wishing I had something, anything at all, to remember.





Copyright 2012 James B. Chevallier

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